Black
by Serisia
Summary: Black. Everything was black. He was vaguely aware that his eyes were open and part of him knew that he was...somewhere, but all he saw was black and all he felt was...nothing. It wasn't the "the lights are off" kind of black though; it was as if he was drowning in some kind of black smoke, that came to be his whole perception. [...]


_**A/N:**_ _I should work on my DCBB – fic, but these little ones keep popping up in my head… So what can I do… This one is inspired by a song, "Alles brennt" by Johannes Oerding. (It's German ;-) )_

Black. Everything was black. He was vaguely aware that his eyes were open and part of him knew that he was... _somewhere_ , but all he saw was black and all he felt was...nothing. It wasn't the "the lights are off" kind of black though; it was as if he was drowning in some kind of black smoke, that came to be his whole perception. But he wasn't able to think consciously about that, he was completely numb, overcome by a multitude of feelings. Hate, despair, anger, bloodlust – on some subconscious level he recognized them, as well as the smell and taste of blood, that seemed to overwhelm all his senses.

A scorching heat was all inside of him, searing his existence. He felt a pulsing beat, but he somehow knew that it wasn't his heart; it felt different, bigger, overbearing. It was inside his head, his chest, his arm, his whole being; at least that was the subliminal perception he got of it. It was kind of aggressive and he wanted to grind his teeth and growl, if only he knew if he even had a mouth to do that with…

Suddenly it was as if the black clouds ruptured and through the gap he saw a flicker of blue. He focused his attention completely on this little lighter spot. Somehow he was sure he would forget to breathe, if he were breathing intentionally, out of pure relief over this change in his surroundings.

Concentrating hard, he understood that it wasn't just a random speck of blue; it was a pair of eyes. Piercingly blue eyes.

Then he realized the eyes weren't alone. They were accompanied by soft lean fingers, holding his face. Concentrating further, he noticed lips, full, chapped lips. And then there was a voice. Now that he was aware of it, it dawned on him that it had been there for quite some time, calling for his attention. Hearing it now, he couldn't understand how he didn't notice it right away. It was low, deep, a little hoarse – it was wonderful. And it was repeating one word, that he now realized was his name.

"Dean? Dean, can you hear me?"

He concentrated on the voice and the eyes, the lips and the fingers and suddenly a face, a person emerged from the smoke. He knew his eyes widened and he kept them focused on the blue ones in front of him.

"Cas?" Yes, that was the name of the person, Castiel, his angel. It just came to him and tumbled straight out of his mouth. But had that really been his voice? He somehow thought it should sound different, not so strained and broken and unused.

For a moment the blue eyes lightened up, "Yes Dean, it's me. I'm here. You're safe."

He became aware that he was sitting, or rather crouching on the floor. Suddenly he knew that he was in his room in the bunker, but before he could try and think further about what was going on, the black clouds became stronger again and threatened to swallow the blue eyes and soft lips and Dean did the only thing that he knew had helped - he focused all his attention on them.

Then the burning fire inside of him somehow felt damped and he noticed that one of the hands on his face was missing. A voice in his head told him that Cas was using it to stroke soothingly over the mark on his arm and that this was what cooled the fire down. He felt his own hand reach out and clutch the front of Castiel's shirt, the additional contact helping to keep his focus on the angel alone.

"Shhh, Dean it's okay. I'm here and Sam too. He found you sitting here and fetched me when he couldn't get through to you. You're safe Dean. Just try and concentrate."

Sam. Yes, that name was familiar too. He was glad that Cas had said it, it helped to push the darkness back.

He found his focus shifting, from the eyes to the lips. He knew these lips, had the feeling he normally spent a lot of time staring at them, thinking about them. They were beautiful. And so close. He knew that he wouldn't allow this if he were in his right mind, but right now, he had absolutely no idea why; so he did the one thing that his whole body told him to do, the one thing that felt right and just natural. He leaned a little forward and pressed his lips to the ones before him.

For a fraction of a second, they were unresponsive, but then Cas sighed and leaned in, cupping Dean's face with both hands again, using his thumbs to stroke the skin under his eyes. And although he now had his eyes closed, Dean felt the darkness, the black clouds around him, dissipate, leaving behind only glorious bluish light that warmed him from the inside out, but this time in a good way. His head cleared and he slowly became aware of his surroundings. He suddenly was able to think about what was happening. He slowly broke the kiss and stared at Castiel with wide eyes. The angel smiled at him, obviously knowing exactly what was going through the hunter's head. And Dean was amazed to realize that he absolutely didn't regret finally kissing the angel. On the contrary, he wanted to do it again and again and keep doing it as long as Cas allowed him to and was glad he for once hadn't been held back by his constraints.

And when he kissed him again, Dean wasn't even embarrassed by the fact that Cas' thumbs were now wiping away tears. He just reveled in the feeling of his angel's lips on his und in Castiel's voice mumbling between kisses "It's okay Dean. It's gonna be okay. We'll find a way"

And for the first time since he took on the Mark of Cain, Dean actually believed it.


End file.
